Product of Boredom
by The Prussian Duelist
Summary: Things tend to happen when Bakura gets bored, whether those things are good depends on who you speak to. Thiefshipping, Marik X Bakura, relatively canon.


Marik sat in his room, glancing out the window. Domino City spread out below, almost artistically. But nothing could ever compare to the beauty of Egypt (in his opinion). He tapped his fingers against his side-table, mouth twisted into a thoughtful scowl. "Partners," he scoffed to himself, summoning up an image of the Spirit of the Millennium Ring in his head absently. Somehow the Spirit was different from the Host he occupied, Ryou. Even in appearances, somehow, despite Spirit and Host being the same body and, assumably, the same person.

_He's volatile, he's a monster, _Marik told himself, standing up and moving closer to the window, _I suppose that's why we get along? Because I'm allowing myself to be aggravated easily? Because I'm allowing myself to be monstrous?_

A knock came at the door to Marik's room, he glanced at the door briefly and turned back to the window, hand going to the Millennium Rod in his belt subconsciously, "Come in," he snapped, irritable.

The door slid open and closed, the person who had knocked apparently having stepped inside, "Good evening, Marik," the voice of Bakura, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, said. The owner of the deep, velvety voice stepped up next to Marik, glancing from Marik to the window and back to Marik. He waved a hand in front of Marik's face when he didn't get an immediate response.

Marik bristled, glowering at Bakura directly. _No, we don't get along at all, _he decided, "What, Bakura?" he demanded.

"No greeting? No little 'hullo, Bakura, and how was your evening'? I'm hurt, Marik," Bakura asked dramatically. He laughed. Why did Marik like that laugh?

Marik scoffed and turned away without answer, releasing his hold on the Millennium Rod, "What do you want, Bakura?" he repeated, eyes trained on the tallest buildings in the Domino City landscape.

"I was bored," Bakura shrugged.

"So you interrupt my thoughts to try and find some entertainment?" Marik demanded, glaring at Bakura out of the corner of his eye.

"You were thinking? Oh my, don't _hurt _yourself or anything," Bakura said over-dramatically, laughing as he slpped a hand on Marik's shoulder, "But yes, that's exactly what I did, Marik, _dear_."

Marik shuddered, brushing Bakura's hand away, "Go bother someone else," he said, ignoring the insult.

"Why, you're no fun," Bakura chuckled, walking over to Marik's bed a flopping onto it, "And I was hoping to find some amusement here."

"Sorry to disappoint," Marik said unapologetically. _Why won't he just leave me alone? _he wondered, resisting the urge to glance at the albino. _His presence is unwelcome, I've made that clear._

"...rik! Marik! Did you _hear _me or not?"

"I was _trying _to tune you out," Marik replied, grinding his teeth and glaring at Bakura.

"How rude of you."

"Indeed," Marik rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and turning towards Bakura, "Will you get off my bed?" he asked.

Bakura looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'm thinking... no," he said.

Marik scowled at him. He reached for Bakura to tug the white-haired boy out of the bed, catching Bakura's smirk a moment to late. Bakura grabbed Marik before Marik could grab Bakura, pulling the Egyptian onto the bed as well, on top of Bakura. The albino's smirk widened a bit as he wrapped his hands around Marik's waist, "Well, hullo there, what brings you around?" he asked conversationally, watching the red spread across Marik's tanned cheeks.

"Bakura! Release me this instant!" Marik growled, his voice taking on a high-pitched whine. _I don't enjoy this, I don't enjoy this, I don't- dear Ra! I enjoy this! _Marik's blush intensified at the revelation as he squirmed a little.

"Mm," Bakura replied noncomittally, tightening his grip on the Egyptian and closing his eyes, "...comfortable."

"What?" Marik asked, pausing in his struggles.

"I'm too comfortable," Bakura clarified.

Marik propped his chin up on his hand and looked at Bakura, still frowning. He was lying on the albino's chest and stomach, which he found to be a rather compromising position. Hopefully no one else would be walking in any time soon. "I hate you quite a bit right now," Marik sniffed.

"My sentiments exactly," Bakura murmured.

Marik sighed, "If you won't let me go willingly, I'll have to _make _you," he said.

Bakura cracked open an eye, chuckling at Marik, "I'd like to see you try."

Marik sighed, _Well, it _might _work, _he told himself. He removed his elbow from Bakura's chest and lowered his face over Bakura's. Bakura gave a rare, mildly confused look. Then Marik kissed him, which brought forth a squeak, a legit squeak, of surprise from the albino. Marik was right though, Bakura's grip loosened considerably in surprise.

But...

Marik pulled back, wrinkling his nose a bit. _I don't want him to let go...? _he asked himself, rather unsure.

Bakura recovered quickly, smirking at Marik and turning over so that he was above Bakura, "I think I found my entertainment," he said smugly.

"What are you talking about?" Marik scoffed.

Bakura just smirked a little wider, leaning over Marik and joining their lips together again. It was as good an answer as any, at least, it was in Marik's opinion.


End file.
